Betrayed (Eddsworld Traitor AU)
by Just Trashy Writing
Summary: Paul and Patryk had been serving in the Red Army for years on end. They've grown tired of being under Tord's management and control. Both soldiers agree to kill the Red Leader after a long mission. Upon being caught, they're both accused of being traitors to the Red Army. What happens when Paul takes the blame? [ Mostly told in Patryk's Point of View ].
1. Prologue

My name is Patryk. One of the many Red Soldiers that were under Tord's command. I'm one of the two soldiers who weren't brainwashed into doing his bidding. After months of planning and using both our wits against the other ' _soldiers_ ' that had tried to stop us, we finally got a chance. The plan to kill someone with corrupt power over everyone here.

Today was the only chance we had at this. Both me and Paul and managed to smuggle silencers for our pistols, which were to be used for the assassination of Tord Larsson. The Red Leader. Ever since the incident with his said ' _friends_ ,' he had lost his right arm and eye, leaving him with multiple burn marks and scars on his face. A robotic arm had replaced his right arm, whilst an eye patch concealed a dull, grey eye. Blind in one eye, but still as sharp as ever. I still remember the bloodcurdling screams of pain when we had amputated the Norski's arm . . . God, there was so much blood on the table when he had been carried out of the room.

It had been months for this opportunity to come around, to say the least. The last ' _mission_ ' both me and Paul had been on was when we crashed into that damn cloudberg in the sky. We were in a fucking plane, that shit doesn't happen like that out of nowhere. Whatever, that's in the past and that doesn't matter at the moment. The problem at hand is how we're having our asses handed to us by the enemy. Gunfire and explosions had deafened most of the soldiers on the field, but they still fought for their will to live, despite they don't realize they're only pawns in Tord's massive game of chess; ordering them all to fight to their inevitable defeat, allowing them to die with no purpose of knowing what they really were fighting for.

 **War was a cruel game in this world.**

We both were taking cover behind a solid wall of dirt in a trench, avoiding the imminent threat from the other side. Next to us was a man that was called 'Harriet,' who had been shot in his shoulder and chest. He had screamed out, "HELP ME PLEASE, I'M BLE–" But the cry had been silenced by a blow from an assault rifle due to the rounds whistling through the air and hitting the ground, the wall, and the once living man. I had a pretty good idea of what he was to say. The corpse slid down the trench wall and to the ground, joining several others. I wrinkled my face in disgust at the horrible stench that wafted over to my nose, coughing slightly as gunpowder and smoke entered my lungs. Trying my best as to not vomit at the smell of death, I grabbed a grenade and pulled the clip, tossing the explosive onto the battlefield.

 **You either join willingly or are forced into the fight.**

I heard the small bomb explode as well as multiple screams of the enemy. I felt both guilt and fear, but I had also felt triumph that my grenade had killed a few men. Paul had been at my side as I threw the handheld explosive and read my facial expression, giving me a slight smile in return. "Patryk, I know this is a bad time, but, I think we should probably be paying attention to the current fight going on." Paul had said loud enough for me to barely hear him, watching him cautiously stand back up with a rifle in his hands and placing his arms over the trench wall, lining up the sights and firing at the enemy line.

 **I didn't want to play, but here I am. Fighting a fight I never wanted.**

I peered over the dirt wall and saw more bodies of soldiers on the ground, their clothing tattered and bloodied from the amount of violence they had caused so recklessly. I could see our men up there in blue and red with some white, shouting and firing their weapons as they desperately tried to take cover, only to fail and result in being executed on the spot with multiple shots to their chest or head. The opposing forces were wearing several shades of green and black, but their numbers seemed to be slowly dwindling to nearly gone. At least twenty or so members of the opposite force were left and could be seen running back to where they had came from, leaving us with the victory over the battle.

 **I've been trained to do what had to be done, and it wasn't easy.**

 **Multiple casualties were normal business, but that didn't matter.**

 **All that mattered was victory.**

 **Winning.**

Cheers had rang out into the air, however I didn't care about everyone else here. They were not like me or Paul. We were different from the rest of the army of brainwashed soldiers. Neither of us were ' _educated_ ' on the ways of War. Both of us already knew the subject very well from the moment we arrived here. Paul had retreated from his spot on the trench and turned to face me with a soft smile, giving me a slight nod. "It's over," he had said quietly with a weak smile, "for now at least." I gave a heavy sigh and nodded as we both had walked side-by-side back to the base, silently marching with the slightly smaller band of soldiers than from which we had started with.

 **If you managed to rank up to a certain position, more work meant more respect.**

 **But not all respect is good.**

More respect, the more powerful you become among the troops as an example to what they should be like. The 'examples' were always chosen for public demonstrations of what would happen if you had disobeyed the Red Leader's orders. Paul was one at one point, in which he had gotten the bandage that covered his right eye from view. Minus the scar and bruises barely peeking under the linen cloth used for medical purposes, he seemed to be fine on the surface. This was never the case, as we had both broken down with one another and acted if it had never occurred to us countless times. Emotions were always problems, rather than being emotionless like the mindless slaves that were sent out to the field to meet their timely demise.

 ** _'Hide your emotions, and hide them well. Keep them like that until you, yourself have been hidden to release that pent up energy in a quiet place, alone.'_**

Is what both me and Paul told each other, but we always ignored that last part. Alone. We never left each other's side, even in the worst of times. Either of us get separated, we always find a way to each other somehow. Call it what you will: fate, luck, etcetera, etcetera.

I prefer the term ' _trust_ ' or possibly ' _love_ ,' if you will. Determination had been our guide to one another in numerous ways, and I don't want to think of what will happen if one day . . .

 **That's the game of War.**

 **Play along with the fight, or die trying to run away.**

Either of us leave one another.

 _Permanently._


	2. Rendezvous

This had to be important because Paul had sent a message from his walkie talkie, stating that it was urgent. I was currently making my way to the small point that both me and Paul had used to prepare plans and start initiative ideas, as well as . . . Other things. _Yeah_. From here on the ground, you couldn't see the small area of where we built our own hideout in the ground, but only a fake rock to cover the entrance to the secret area only we knew about. Before I could enter, my talkie had gone off with a loud buzz.

* * *

 _/\/\/ Pat, you there? What's your 20? \/\/\_

* * *

I chuckled at the use of 20 and climbed down the hatch, sliding down the ladder to find Paul leaning against the earthy wall with a slightly surprised expression on his face. "Oh." "'Oh,' is right, Paul. Anyways, what was going on that had became so urgent? Especially at this hour?" I replied with a slight smile, one filled with curiosity and confusion. It was after midnight, but normally we had our little meetings much later. The other soldier had sighed and pushed himself off the wall, looking at me dead in my eyes with the only one he had at the moment. He took a sharp inhale of air and spoke clearly and firmly towards me, "Red Leader knows our plan."

I could've sworn that my heart rate had doubled upon hearing those words, sending cold fear running down my spine. How did he find out? What gave it away? Who all knows about this? What's gonna happen to both of us? All these questions were crossing my mind as I gave into the anxiety, my breathing pattern turning ragged and uneven. Paul had quietly sworn under his breath and quickly grabbed my shoulders, trying to bring back to reality. "Patryk, I swear to god don't start thinking like that–" The words had poured out of my mouth hastily, staring back at his one eye in horror. "How can I not?! What about all the possible outcomes, Paul? What about Red Leader finding everything here, in our small hideout? Everything that we worked for, gone!"

He huffed quietly and furrowed the bushy eyebrows he had, frowning at the act I had pulled on him. But it truly was terrifying to think about. "Relax, that won't happen. I assure you that it won't." He had said in a hushed voice as his hands had loosened their grip on my shoulders and moved to my hands, holding them carefully in his own. My gaze had softened and allowed a soft breath leave my lips with a light smile, tightening the hold of his hands. "Everything's gonna be alright, Pat, I promise," Paul said before he placed a peck on my cheek, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb as reassuring as he could. He always knew how to brighten my day somehow, but there was an odd sensation whenever he did. Warmth and comfort, safety and security. But at the same time, a haunting feeling such as being found out from a soldier or the Norwegian himself.

After taking a few moments to slightly joke around with one another and to talk about certain things that had been going around the hidden base, we finally began to plan about assassinating Tord. "We have our silencers which give us an advantage over doing this quietly," Paul said as he pushed one of the two silencers into my hands, "but do you have your half, right?" I nodded and handed him a small map that I had recreated for our journey there, marking all the needed spot for cameras and blind spots; troops that will be marching through the areas and other miscellaneous things we might need. New guns and ammunition if we run into people.

Paul smiled at my work and quickly looked over the paper, taking notes of the scheduled times I labeled around the map. "Took me forever to get behind the troops on guard around the file room. Had make up some bullshit excuse to get past them, which I got lucky on." I murmured and heard his laugh, bringing a grin to my face. "What'd you tell 'em? You didn't barge through saying, ' _Move, I'm gay._ ' again, did you?" He asked with a smirk. "No." I replied and lightly pushed the other soldier jokingly, recalling the memory of where I had gotten in trouble by shouting out that one sentence to get what I want—which I did get. "Told them I had important matters with Red Leader."

I had needed a certain file from within that room, which always had two to three men standing on guard there. It was on one of the newest recruits—Roy—who had been in the rehabilitation center for at least a week from taking a severe blow to his stomach from a bayonet, which wasn't the best sight in the world. He's been in critical condition after the traumatic experience, having multiple stitches covering the stab wound. Apparently Red Leader had a suspicion about him being a traitor, since he's missed countless roll-calls and have been seen in other sectors where he was not needed. Pushing through the small force, I had said "Move, I'm gay." I grabbed the folder from within the room and walked back to Red Leader's office, sighing quietly from what I had said to get in the room.

Long story short, he _was_ a traitor and there was a public announcement about it of course. Roy had sat on his knees waiting for Red Leader to show up to demonstrate what happens to traitors like him. Eventually he had wreaked onto the platform with another soldier and handed them his pistol. Harriet. That's the only reason knew him on the field. Harriet was forced to put the gun to Roy's head. Before he could the trigger, Roy had begged and pleaded as to not be shot. It was sickening to watch Harriet hesitate on shooting him, which only aggravated Tord more. Red Leader had delivered a sharp kick to Roy's stomach, letting a sharp scream escape the wounded mans mouth.

The shirt was bloody, showing that he had broken the skin and possibly the stitches that held his skin together. He grabbed his hair and looked at him coldly, scowling at his refusal to accept death. "You're not the soldier I thought you were, Roy, but the traitor I now know as a fact. _Traitor, traitor, traitor. A traitor is what you are_." I could tell by both Harriet and Roy's expressions, they were terrified of what was to happen next, but everyone here knew what was to happen. The Norski dropped the others hair and stepped away with a sadistic grin, giving Harriet a nod as to continue his duty. Harriet shakily nodded and lined up the pistol to the kneeling soldiers forehead, then pulled the trigger.

 ** _BANG_**

There was a loud thud of the deceased being landing against the platform, blood pooling out of his head and towards both Tord and Harriet. I had to turn away for a moment, since a small puddle of blood had dribbled down the side of the stage. Upon looking back to the stage, Harriet now had the gun pointed to himself with Red Leader in control of the guns actions, as he had been spat on. Disrespect was another problem here. Some people in the crowd had gasped quietly, while some had scowled at the act of treason against the commander. Tord smirked at the attempts of the soldier to escape from his clutches, pulling back the hammer and observing how he had fear in his eyes, rather than rage. He spoke lowly, but loud enough for him to hear, " _Who's my good soldier?_ "

Harriet had backed off from trying to land any hit other than the spit he had managed to land on his face, holding his breath as the gun was removed from his throat. "That's better. Harriet, report to your station for your normal duties. Someone clean up this mess, pronto." Ordered the leader, walking past the bloody mess of what once was Roy and to his office.

It's called the Red Army for a reason.

Being brought back to reality, I looked at Paul who was currently attaching the silencer to his pistol and occasionally looking over the map I made. "Hey Paul," I started with a slight smile as I made my way towards him, "have you decided on a place to rendezvous?" He nodded and placed his fingertip over towards the storage room. "Really? That's risky considering how many guards would be in there." I said with a frown. "Well, maybe we can check out the hangars? They don't have a lot of security checks there anyways." Paul added, dragging his finger to the jet hangar. There was a slightly skeptical look on my face as I scanned over the times of where the security would be. He's right, they only check the area twice.

"I'm sold on the idea. Now all we have to do is make it past everything else then go up to the Red Leader." I said with a bit of cheeriness in my voice, grabbing my own gun and attaching the silencer onto the weapon as Paul had scavenged for ammunition for the assassination attempt. "I'll meet you up there in a minute, Pat, I need to do something really quick," Paul had said hastily as I made my way to the ladder back to the surface. Nodding, I went ahead and climbed up the makeshift rope ladder to see the slowly darkening sky and to feel a cool, brisk breeze passing through the air. We only had one shot at this, and we need to make it count.

 _For our lives._


	3. Silence

"Remind me why I agreed to do this?" I had said quietly as to not draw attention to myself, for the area had multiple security groups making their rounds around the base. It shouldn't even be labeled as a _'base'_. It's a _prison_ , more or less. An unjust and cruel one at that. "Because," Paul had began with a slightly skeptical look, "you and I are both tired of Red Leader's shit. It's not like we _love_ being at this beck and call, right?" Thinking about what the one-eyed soldier had said just a moment ago and recalling memories about all the other mindless humans here, I nodded with a sigh. Upon making half the trip to the hangars, we had heard several footsteps from around the corner, immediately alerting the two of us that we need hide right this fucking second. I didn't make any hesitation as to quickly drag both me and Paul towards the nearest building, which just so happened to be the infirmary. Lucky us.

"..stay quiet.." I had whispered as I quickly walked through one of the patients' rooms, looking for a spot to hide. "..i think i know that, moron.." Was the reply I heard from Paul, also trying to find a place to conceal himself as well. "..dibs on hiding under the bed-" I said as I made a mad dash to the medical bed, hastily crawling under the piece of furniture. There were several boxes of supplies for other patients that would be brought to this room. Syringes, clothes, etcetera and etcetera. Paul huffed and quietly gasped, hearing the door to the outside open and close loudly, the steel-toed boots of the forces that entered the building. I watched as he ran to one of the counters and fumbled with the lock, fear and anxiety in his movements. The footsteps drew closer to where we were, echoing throughout the other halls. Pulling several containers out from their original spots, I replaced myself in the little cubbyhole I created, replacing the plastic boxes to hide myself from view with a small hole to watch from on both sides.

"..fuck it.." The other man had bashed the lock off the handle with end of his pistol, immediately opening it and climbing inside the small space. The sudden noise of the lock being broken had startled the patrolling brigade and picked up their pace, pushing open the door and stepping through as to see the room clearly. _Shit, there's five guys.._ I mouthed a swear under my breath and slightly peered out from the bed, seeing a bright flashlight looking through the other counters through the room. "Captain, there's someone in this room," spoke one of the soldiers and took multiple steps towards the bed, causing me to hitch my breath as to not give away my position. Paul was in a dangerous hiding spot right now, but all we could do was sit and wait. "No shit. Search this room. The counters are already jam packed, as you can see," said Captain Ass— _the nickname I've given him for the moment_ —had pulled open the counter next to Paul, showing it was completely filled with papers and medical records.

I could barely see the other soldier in the cabinet, silently smiling to be himself covered in white to brown papers and files to keep himself hid from the patrol's prying eyes. They did as they were ordered, scavenging the small room for anyone in here at the moment. I closed my eyes when they opened Paul's cabinet, terrified if he would have been found just sitting there or if he had been trying to hide himself from view. He was nowhere to be seen, as there was only paper and more files. Someone had moved the bed slightly and pushed several boxes away, allowing me to crawl deeper into my cubbyhole. I stayed like this for a long time, listening to the noises from outside, fearing that the security force would locate our spots. "I'm taking Chris and Vaughn with me to search the other rooms. You two continue to search this area," said the leader of the group and walked out with the two other officers, leaving us in silence.

* * *

 _Silence._

 _That word means many things._

 _Peace, as in the end of a war, as all fighting has stopped and only the sound of peace remains._

 _Tranquility, just enjoying the noise of nothingness and void, relaxing to it._

 _Death, the most tragic event that could happen; it's the sound of regret and sorrow, unforgiving and unpredictable in the ways of being absolutely quiet._

* * *

For what seemed like hours both me and Paul sat in this room, waiting for them to leave the building. Eventually the group that had left the room came back and grabbed the last two, leaving the two of us in darkness and silence. I waited several minutes as to make sure they don't return and catch me off guard, then crawled out and towards the cabinet that Paul was hiding in. I swung open the door and saw papers scattered over a blue and red figure lying there, face down. "..come on..," I said to the hiding man, "..we gotta move….small time frame.." Paul shot up from the bed of papers he made and stared at me, expecting me to say something about his current position, but crawled out nonetheless. "..how precious..," I murmured towards him with a smirk, only to be lightly pushed by a flustered Paul, huffing with a light grin as we both cautiously exited the infirmary.

As we continued to make our way to the jet hangar, there seemed to be more guards and patrols than I originally thought. _Shit_. Paul pointed to the wire fence where there seemed to be less guards surrounding the area, but enough light to possibly be caught. I shook my head no. Can't risk being caught now. We continued to scan the area for another way in, taking cover behind multiple bushes as to remain hidden. We could make our way to behind the building and go in through the back gate, but that particular area is heavily guarded—main gate the same as well. I honestly think that neither of us want to be seen trying to sneak in, or be caught entering by force. However, by seeing how things are, it may just come down to shooting the surrounding troops.

I heard the quiet clicks of Paul's gun being loaded up with ammunition, as well as the barely audible huffs of air escaping his mouth. He was doing a small check over the piece of weaponry. Maybe I should do the same as to be prepared. I looked at mine and pulled the pistol out from its holster, examining the gun. **[warning: lots of gun information to take in—feel free to skip this part]**

First I pulled the slide back and ejected the magazine, seeing one of the bronze and copper bullets I had in the semiautomatic pistol in the chamber. I had also checked to see if the sights were lined up correctly as well as keeping the ejection port clear, making sure empty bullet shells could make its way out of the pistol. "..hold on, the safety's off..," I murmured silently, pushing the small lever on the side of the gun and continued my inspection, from the grip to the muzzle; trigger and hammer. _Everything checks out._ I turned the safety back off and inserted the magazine, running my fingertips over the cold metal and the rough grip that sat in my palm. My fingers had taken a firm position as to test the sights, one on the side, and one hovering over the trigger as I closed my left eye to see how accurate I had lined them up. The small white dots had matched up perfectly to where it can fire straight, minus the silencer over the muzzle, it made it a little easier to fire.

I smiled softly and slipped the pistol in its holster on my right side, then twisted to look at Paul. He had been observing me as I took care of my gun, chuckling quietly and my action of checking on him, rather than myself. If given the chance, I would do anything for him without hesitation—whether or not he wants me to, I will always be there for him when I'm needed most. By all means, I would be ready to lay down my life if it meant he lived. We both knew this. "Alright, on three we rush the fuckers, ok?" I said quickly and pulled my pistol out, readying myself for what was to happen. Paul nodded and pulled his own pistol out, also preparing himself for what may happen.

 **One.**

I took a deep breath and peered over the shrubbery to see two groups of two armed with assault rifles, standing as still as statues. "Four guys. Two on either side." Paul mumbled and took a step out of the bushes, still mostly concealed.

 **Two.**

I pulled the hammer back and exhaled sharply, stepping up and standing in front of the bushes with a sense of uneasiness; a wave of fear washed over my senses as I took several steps forward. Paul did as well, following my lead.

 **Three.**

Before I could fire . . . One of the four soldiers had received a message from their talkie, putting the radio up to their mouth and said something along the lines of 'Yes, sir.' and quickly ran from their stations, leaving the fence unmanned and unguarded. "Come on," Paul rushed past me and to the wire fence, starting to climb over the holed barrier with ease. Not wanting to be left behind, I immediately dashed after the other man, jumping on the wire and sprinting into the large building where the jets were held ready for inspection and repair.

* * *

 _This was almost too easy. Something's wrong._


	4. Futile

Paul had pulled me off to the side and towards a plane in need of repairing, taking a seat on the cold steel of the aircraft carrier. There were some burn marks on the ground and a few large holes in the siding, probably from the impact of crash landing. He had soft pants leaving his mouth from sprinting into the plane from our original hiding spot in the bushes, not to mention climbing the fence to get in. The aircraft had been tilted slightly upwards, leaving the two of us sitting in the back of the plane as it was elevated precariously. There was no explanation for this, but I had started laughing quietly.

I felt Paul's iron gaze fall upon me and my chuckles, as he had also given a series of light snickers while I laughed. So many emotions were flooding into my mind as I sat there with a bright smile on my face, staring back at Paul while I did so.

* * *

 _Joy._

 _Uneasiness._

 _Paranoia._

 _Love._

 _Exhaustion._

* * *

Paul had given me a soft grin as my laughter had subsided to quiet giggles, sighing silently at me. I had moved to sit next to Paul and catch my breath from rushing over to the hangar and laughing, leaning my head back on the stained sheet metal of the air carrier. He had exhaled sharply and pulled a pack of cigarettes out, placing the stick of nicotine between his lips and lighting with a small handheld lighter. I watched the smoke leave his mouth and nostrils and into the air, seeing how the tainted air dissipate into the air. The scent had been slightly relaxing to me for an odd reason, bitter with an indescribable smell to it; just basking in the cigarette smoke.

"Are you ready for going up to Tord?" Paul said with a hint of uneasiness in his voice as he faced me, puffing a ring of smoke into the air. I really didn't want to answer that question right now. I showed this by shuffling my feet on the worn ground with a fearful expression, thinking of all the possible outcomes.

* * *

 _What happens if we don't make it to Tord's office? If the troops get us first? Will the same event of Harriet ending Roy's already short life, occur with either of us? What about our lives—we will leave with them . . . Or will our lives leave us?_

* * *

All these thoughts were passing through my mind so quickly in such a small amount of time, more and more thoughts popped up out of nowhere and continuing to think of the result of each dark fantasy. It was always ended the same.

* * *

 _Death._

* * *

Paul flicked the ash and remaining tobacco out of the cigarette, then tossing it to the side to give me a tight hug to try and ease my mind to a certain degree. I took this opportunity to cling to the other, burying my face into his shoulder as my arms coiled around his torso to bring me closer to him. He sighed softly and wrapped his own arms around me, gently running his hands down the navy trench coat I wore with my red sweater and white belts I put over the turtleneck. "Patryk, you're gonna be fine..! I promise you that if anything happens, I'll be there for you.. Just relax.." Taking his suggestion about chilling out, I nodded into his shoulder and leaned into him as I tried to take slow, steady breaths that were ragged and slightly uneven.

 _Paul's Point of View_

Patryk had lain on my shoulder and practiced taking deeper breaths and relaxing, while I hugged him from the side, sighing quietly. I honestly didn't mind this, but it's just the current situation that I forcefully put the two of us in. Before Pat joined me in this attempt, I asked him if he wanted to assist me in killing Tord. After a day or two, he had agreed to my idea of dethroning the corrupt leader. However, I had to rush the mission due to Red Leader finding my original plans to assassinate him, and as expected, he was furious about this. To escape him, I hid in me and Patryk's miniature base we both constructed during the previous, sleepless nights we always had. From here I called Patryk and prepared for the mission I initiated only moments before.

Tonight was the night I was to die—that I repay for everything I did to countless innocent lives. For civilians that were brutally murdered during the Army's rampage. For betraying numerous soldiers and leaders in control. For abusing Patryk's trust and love. It's practically suicide to try and kill the Red Leader, and it's also a death wish if I ignore the fact that he will hunt me down and kill me. But if I know Pat—which I do rather well—he will do something to end his reign of terror and put a permanent stop to the cruel acts he has in play. He would avenge all the innocent people that were slaughtered and soldiers who were ordered to die, which caused Tord to become this powerful and feared.

I didn't want to be in this mess in the first place, but if I wasn't I wouldn't have met Pat, which changed everything in my life. Patryk had sat up now and gave a soft exhale, calm and chilled out. "You ready?" I asked with a soft tone, lightly nudging his shoulder to hear a soft sigh and to see him nod; Pat sitting up and regaining his composure. We've been here for a good while now and we're wasting time, since Tord probably called the rest of security to find us. I stood up as well and exited the extremely battleworn plane silently, making sure my pistol was still in its holster and ready to be used when necessary. Pat followed close behind as I made our way through the building, ducking into cover when a patrol came within our proximity countless times.

* * *

 _Things are getting risky._

* * *

I had ran into an office from within the hangar's business section, where most paperwork was filed and stored in other rooms for the superiors—such as Tord and other well trusted elite soldiers—were allowed to see these documents at all times during the day. Other soldiers had to have an important reason or a document from one of these leaders or soldiers. Patryk was in the office directly in front of me while I hid in the opposite one, both of us watching a pack of soldiers dash through rather hastily. They seemed to be looking for us, apparently. We let them pass and sprinted through the halls to quicken our pace to Tord's office, only to be put to a stop by a brigade of four soldiers abruptly.

* * *

" **There! It's the trait-"**

* * *

I put a stop to one of the four soldiers by firing my gun at their head, watching the once living human fall to the ground motionless. He dropped to the floor as if he were a lead weight being pulled down by gravity, blood immediately pooling out of his skull. The others were startled but this act for a moment, then pulled their own weapons on me with no hesitation. Pat had also fired, but had hit two of the soldiers in their shoulders and earned a scream of pain from the both of the soldiers. While they were distracted from their bullet wounds given by Patryk, we made a mad dash for the head office while more squadrons were on our tail. "His office is just down the hall," I said as I sprinted down the hall, hearing more than just me and Pat's footsteps from a short distance away, "Tord'll be in here probably half passed out—we can take him while he's off guard."

There was a hum of agreement from my partner as we neared the room, slamming the door open to find Tord just sitting there with this shit-eating grin. The Norwegian leader had already pulled a pistol out on us, aiming at Patryk's head with a low, sadistic chuckle.

* * *

" _Hello, traitors. I've been expecting you two."_


	5. Judgement

_Patryk's Point of View_

* * *

I was put to an immediate stop upon seeing the pistol aimed directly at my face, only a few meters away from both me and Paul. "Tord . . . Are you going to shoot me?" I had said this with precaution, taking a small step towards the other soldier with a shaky laugh and a weak smile. "Me? Shoot _you_? Who do you think I am, _The Red Leader_?" The Norski had said this was an unfavorable amount of sarcasm and cruelty. Along with that, he had just barely lowered his weapon as he laughed. Paul took immediate notice of this and pulled his gun on Tord, narrowing his thickened eyebrows coldly—him gripping the silenced weapon's grip tightly. He took a step forward and clicked his tongue quietly with a huff of what seemed to be disappointment. "Paulie, I never knew you _hated_ me this mu-"

 ** _"Shut the fuck up, you arrogant prick! I'm not afraid to open fire!"_**

Paul had said this not too lightly, hence the tone and volume he used to get his point across—his index finger slowly slipped to the trigger with a large scowl adorning his facial features. Tord had stood there bawling with laughter at the threat from Paul to equally piss the both of us off tremendously, him wheezing from time to time due to everything we've done to get to this point. _How was this hilarious?_ "Oh, the both of you are just too dumb to understand what's happening! Clearly! Two traitors had gone to such lengths to try and _kill_ me, only to meet their untimely demise. _Early!_ " The corrupted leader had said this after regaining his composure, wiping a fake tear out of his left eye and adjusting his right eyes eyepatch with a heavy sigh.

"That's a shame," Tord started, "you two were my _favorite soldiers.."_ He then swung his sights over to Paul and shot his left shoulder, causing him to drop the gun on the stone floor with a muffled scream of pain. I had immediately rushed over to help the fallen soldier, but Tord had forcefully put an end to that attempt by kneeing me in the gut—sending me stumbling backwards and into the wall rather sharply. Paul had tried to grab his gun again, only to have his arm stomped on and the gun taken from his reach. The Norwegian leader had taken no time in dismantling the gun, removing the silencer and all remaining ammunition.

"I allow the both of you to be the only _true_ soldiers out there on the field, and you both betray me? You ungrateful little shits! I should have just wiped all the living sense out of you and then slaughter you ten times over, you trai-" Paul had interrupted Tord's speech by screaming the following sentence—taking the both of us by surprise.

 **"PAT WAS NEVER INVOLVED IN THIS—HE NEVER WAS! I WAS JUST-"**

Tord forcefully grabbed the back of the _'confessing'_ soldier's hair, raising his head up to show countless bruises and blood streaks due to the leader's brutality. "Finish that sentence, _Traitor_. And I may _change_ your demise. For better or for worse." He had held a tight grip on the curly brown hair, compelling Paul to speak up.

 _"I was using him to my advantage. He was so impressionable and gullible. He never meant anything to me—nothing did."_

My heart dropped. There wasn't even a thread of trust left in him after I heard that sentence, thoroughly enraging me. It was just as equally depressing. Tord had begun laughing once again, slamming Paul's head back down onto the cold floor and leaving him momentarily motionless. During the Red Leader's fit of giggles, Paul managed to sit up and cough a thick red substance with a heavy aroma of copper. One that was all too familiar.

 _Blood._

I didn't feel anything towards Paul at the moment—the feelings I had were either numbed or just rage and sadness. "Very well, Paul. You've earned yourself a demotion—you now have earned the rank of _corpse_." "S-sir, please . . . don't . . s-hoot." "Oh, I'm not shooting you." Tord threw me his pistol, a flintlock pistol, grinning sadistically.

" _Patryk is the executioner."_

All feeling had rushed back as I could faintly hear a nearly silent gasp from the fallen soldier, staring at the ivory and wooden firearm in my hands with great fear and refusal. Tord spoke one last time before stepping back behind me, placing his hand on my right shoulder. He said, _"You saw the demonstration before, you know. Time to reenact it once again. Don't disappoint me."_ "Pat, no. Please don't." Paul had said this with his own version on anxiety and fear, the poorly wrapped bandage had fallen off to reveal a horribly scarred eye and a set of small pupils within a scared human. My hands were shaking at the thought of firing at the being, then watching a lifeless body fall limp to the floor.

 **"He probably never even liked you—let alone** ** _love_** **you."**

I shook my head at what Tord had said, pulling the gun up away from Paul with a shaky sigh. "So disappointing, Patryk. I thought you would show some _loyalty_ to your commander." Tord said with a click of his tongue, shaking his head as he grabbed my arm and redirected it to Paul's forehead; he had pulled the hammer back with his thumb and pushed my fingers to slide to the trigger. I knocked my head back and hit Tord's nose rather forcefully, hearing a crack and a hiss of pain—no doubt it was a broken nose. I took this moment to aim the flintlock at Tord, sniffling quietly. "Don't speak of him like that..!"

 _I'm given three options:_

 _I shoot Tord, but have both me and Paul executed._

 _I open fire to Paul and be praised for killing my best friend in this hellhole and possibly die as well. Memory wiped, maybe._

 _Or I end it all myself and . . . take a bullet to the mouth._

"I can speak of him how I want! He is _my_ soldier, you _all_ are being used to _my_ advantage, and there is _nothing_ you can do to _stop_ it!" Tord said with rage in his voice, clearly pissed off as blood dribbled down from his nose, "if you kill me, there is an armed vanguard standing right outside this door ready to gun you all down. On the other hand, you shoot Paul and everything is going to be just fine." The only person I could ever trust was to be shot at my own hands, a true damn nightmare. Paul had this blank and sorrowful expression gracing his face as I turned to face him, the heavy pistol sitting in my hands—just yearning to be shot.

 _"Just shoot me, Pat."_

Time froze for a moment after Paul had said that. I looked over to him with confusion and worry, loosening my grip on the flintlock. "What..? No..! I can't do that-"

 ** _"Just . . . Do it."_**

Tord stood up and dashed over to me, small blood splatters landing on the ground and my left side due to the bleeding nose I had caused. The Norski had grabbed my arm and forced the gun up to the incapacitated soldier, pressing the muzzle up to his forehead. "You heard him, Pat," Tord said with a heavy huff, pulling the hammer back and setting my fingers over the trigger, _"Dot it."_

Paul had given me a silent nod, forcing a weakened smile as tears collided with the crimson blood. I had my own tears falling to the floor, papers everywhere and small blood pools around the office. I averted my eyes and closed them, slowly tightening the grip on the trigger.

 _Tight._

I heard a quiet gasp from the other man on the ground. Not of surprise, but fear.

 _Tighter._

I was shaking and at a loss for words, still drawing the trigger back until I heard the-

 _Tightest._

 **BANG**

There was a heavy thud on the solid group and a strong scent of copper. The atmosphere had constricted my throat and prevented me from spitting a string of words at the cruel commander. It was heart wrenching and nerve wracking to shoot my best friend, my partner. I opened my eyes once more and gazed at the ground with small eyes, Tord backing off and grabbing the pistol from my hands. Without any words, I fell to my knees and examined the now deceased Paul. He was so _cold_. Indeed he was dead, as there was a bullet hole fired into his head, creating a large pool of the heavy red liquid beneath the limp male.

 _What have I done?_

The doors flung open and the aforementioned group of soldiers had rushed in, grabbing me by my arms and cuffing my wrists behind my back; this was sudden to me, it being extremely uncomfortable and terrifying. The room was now near nauseating from the scent of the dead being of Paul lying dead on the cold ground. As I struggled to get out of this, Tord knocked the back of his flintlock on my head with anger and heartlessness. Before I lost consciousness, I could just barely make out a sentence that Tord shouted out.

 _"Wipe his mind! And get this traitorous corpse out of my sight!"_

* * *

 _"Now while my lips are living  
Their words must stay unsaid,  
And will my soul remember  
To speak when I am dead?_

"Yet if my soul remembered  
You would not heed it, dear,  
For now you must not listen,

And then you could not hear."


End file.
